


Curvas no Líneas

by cortexikid



Series: Schneider’s Choice [3]
Category: One Day at a Time (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Schneider moves on from his break up, especially when life throws him one hell of a curve ball, he thanks every day penelope the rock alvarez is there for him, with his bestie's help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 09:32:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18192839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cortexikid/pseuds/cortexikid
Summary: “What are you talking about, Pen? You don’t ruin relationships. And you certainly didn’t ruin me and Avery. I did that all on my own. It was only a matter of time.”Penelope halted, dead in her tracks, jabbing a finger in his face.“See, no Schneider. That’s where you’re wrong. I’m sorry but, I heard what Avery said. All the time you spend with us, our dinners, going to the kids’ things, my late-night house-calls…they all contributed to her feeling like you put us first.”“I do put you first.”“But you shouldn’t, Schneider! You’re not their dad and you’re not my husband!”





	Curvas no Líneas

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not sure how happy I am with this. But I humbly offer it as the next part in the Schneider’s Choice series. It’s actually a direct continuation of part 1, sorry for the non-linear time-line. I’m working up the nerve to eventually write Penelope’s POV. Enjoy!

He spoke to his sponsor for thirty-four minutes. A Schneider record. Although, it paled in comparison to the lengthy conversations he and Penelope had had. Still, Nick was happy that he was letting things out, even praised him for it and encouraged him to call more often, day or night.

When he hung up, he couldn’t look at his best friend right away. Still feeling too raw, exposed in a way he hadn’t been in front of another person, possibly ever. A fresh wave of anxiety washed over him as he awaited her response.

A soft pressure pushed at fingers, entwining them with shorter, smaller ones.

Penelope was holding his hand. And looking at him. With a smile on her face.

“I’m so proud of you, Schneider.”

He swallowed the large lump that had settled in his throat just before he called Nick.

“Thank you, Penelope. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

She shook her head, “You could have…but you don’t have to.”

He nodded, squeezing her hand, clearing his throat.

“You uh…you want some coffee? I got some decaf.”

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

Schneider assumed that he’d go make the coffee and Penelope would chill in his living room, but he thought wrong. Instead, his best friend rose from the couch when he did, at his side when he walked to the kitchen. As he loaded the coffee maker, she went about gathering cups and the good cookies that he had pilfered from Lydia and Alex’s stash.

“Mami has been blaming me for these going missing you know,” she smirked, breaking one in half and popping it in her mouth as she held out the other half for him to take.

Schneider clasped it between his thumb and forefinger, his smile sheepish, “Sorry, Pen. I saw my opportunity and I took it. Your mom refuses to tell me where you guys buy these.”

She rolled her eyes, “Oh that’s alright for you. You don’t have to listen to,” she clutched her chest dramatically, throwing her head back and doing her best Mami-voice, “Ay! Mi hija la ladrona! I have raised un criminal!”

Schneider snorted at her impression, before halting, “But, wait…doesn’t she and Alex steal them from you?”

“Yep. Funny how she doesn’t see the hypocrisy in that, huh?”

They shared a smile just as the coffee maker finished. Penelope slid the cups over to him and he dutifully filled them, Penelope opening his fridge. They moved about the small but sleek kitchen with ease, ducking around (and under in Penelope’s case) each other, and it was then that Schneider realized he wasn’t quite sure when it was that his best friend had become so familiar with his place. Sure, he knew the Alvarez apartment like the back of his hand, but the majority of Casa De Schneider, by and large, remained a mystery to the Alvarezes.

All but one, it seemed.

“I got the cookies,” Penelope grinned, waving the plate at him and sauntering back into the living room.

Schneider watched her go for a minute, the weight of what had transpired tonight beginning to stoop his back and droop his shoulders. But as he watched his best friend do her little shuffle dance that she did when she was excited, he found himself shaking his head with amusement, something he wouldn’t have deemed possible once upon a time.

No. Once upon a time, after a break up, even back when he didn’t believe love existed, he would have been reaching for the nearest bottle. Now? He reached for coffee. And Penelope.

And occasionally, stolen cookies.

~*~

He was warm.

He was warm with a pressure on his shoulder and something tickling his neck.

He didn’t want to move or open his eyes, though. Despite these oddities, he couldn’t remember ever being more comfortable on his couch.

…Why was he on his couch again?

A soft sigh omitted from somewhere near his collarbone and suddenly, Schneider remembered.

There had been coffee and cookies and chatting—with Penelope.

Schneider’s eyes shot open.

He blinked once. Twice. Willing his bleary eyes to focus. That was when he realized that he must have taken his glasses off before falling asleep. Except…he didn’t remember taking off his glasses, or falling asleep, or wrapping his arm around his best friend’s shoulders.

And yet.

When he peered down, that _was_ his arm outstretched and wrapped around a familiar frame. That _was_ a shock of curly, brown hair that was tickling his neck.

His gaze raked over her face, it soft and completely relaxed as she slept, something which Schneider was unsure he had ever seen before. She looked peaceful, completely at ease, with her cheek pressed into his shoulder, her body turned in to him, her hand resting lightly on his hip.

Warmth pooled in the pit of his stomach.

No wonder he had slept better than he could remember, better than he could have ever expected.

Pen always did have a way of calming him down.

He couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched her curl her nose, as if fighting off an invisible itch. She looked so serene despite this, something Schneider would never associate with someone as…animated as his best friend. He was transfixed at the change, the shift in her features, feeling as if he was getting some sort of coveted behind-the-scenes to Penelope Francisca Alvarez. Something only a select few people in this world got to see.

People she slept wit—next to. People she slept _next to_. An exclusive club that Schneider had now unwittingly, but not unwelcomingly joined.

“You know it’s creepy to stare at people, right?”

And just like that, whatever weird trance that he had fallen under was lifted and he was snapped back into their reality, one that allowed him to hide his embarrassment at being caught staring at his sleeping best friend, with an abundance of sass.

“You know it’s creepy to pretend to be asleep while trapping people who need to pee, right?”

She lifted her head off his shoulder rapidly as if scalded, knocking his arm from around her and throwing him a sheepish, “Sorry, sorry,” shuffling down the couch, several paces away from him.

Schneider tried to ignore the pang in his chest as his hand collided with the couch cushion, it taking him a second to identify what he saw crossing her face, but when he did, he couldn’t help the soft, but pleased grin from spreading.

Penelope was embarrassed. Penelope was _blushing_.

And it was so frickin’ cute.

There were several ways he could play this. He knew immediately which one was for him.

“No, no,” Schneider held up his hands to appease her, “By all means, who am I to prevent you from using me as your own personal cuddle toy? I mean, I’m just shocked really that you’ve managed to hide this from me for so long. Who knew that Penelope Alvarez, self-proclaimed badass, was also a secret snuggler? I feel like I’ve uncovered the Lost City of Atlantis type of secret.”

Her stare was downright murderous.

He could barely contain his glee.

“I thought you needed to pee?”

“And I thought you were all hard shell. Who knew underneath that tough exterior, there were gooey insides just waiting—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll show you exactly how gooey _your_ insides are.”

“By making them my outsides?”

“Yep.”

Schneider stood up abruptly, noticing for the first time that they both had been covered by the soft, blue blanket that Lydia knitted him for his birthday last year. It also gave him an idea of who may have removed his glasses. He bit his lip to stop his grin from widening as he airily told the room, “Welp, my porcelain throne awaits.”

“Whatever, Cersei,” she scoffed, running a hand through her hair and fixing her mussed blouse, “Hurry up and get dressed. Mami’s bacon is calling.”

He stopped mid-step.

He didn’t need to pee. Not really. Deep down he knew that even Penelope probably knew that. What he didn’t know however, was how it was that his best friend was so seemingly unconcerned about her mother, and perhaps kids, knowing about their little impromptu slumber-party.

They may be best friends. But they weren’t the 15-year-old girl types, after all. He worried about how it could... _look_.

“Uh,” he began eloquently, not able to quite turn and face her, “does Lydia know you’ve been here all night?”

He heard her shift a little on the couch, no doubt looking at him over her shoulder.

“She texted when you dozed off during the opening credits of Selena. I told her I’d make sure you were okay before heading back,” she cleared her throat, shifting again, “I…didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

He let that little nugget of information sink in.

The warmth spread throughout his body.

“Damn. Can’t believe I missed J-Lo's breakout role.”

She knew what he was really saying.

“I can’t believe that _that_ was the J-Lo movie you chose. I totally had you down as a Gigli fan.”

He knew what she was really saying back.

~*~

And so, life went on.

Life without booze, drugs, and Avery.

It sucked, sometimes. It was okay, sometimes. But mostly?

It was what it was.

Schneider always hated that expression. But even he had to admit that that was how he felt about his life at the moment. He was picking himself back up, putting himself back together, piece by piece like the messed up, broken, man-child of a puzzle he was.

But this time, he wasn’t doing it alone.

He had the Alvarezes.

Elena, with her ever-endearing rants and puns and handywoman help. Alex, with his bro-time and girl troubles and baseball practice that Schneider never grew tired of. Lydia, with her dancing and cooking and cheek-pinches both face and…other. Schneider had all of them, backing him up, each and every day.

And Penelope.

He never truly understood what people meant when they said someone was their rock. Instead, he had always summoned the image of the legend himself, Dwayne Johnson, and not actually an emotional pillar of strength, someone who propped you up when your knees gave way, who leant you their shoulder to cry on and their ear to rant in.

Not that Dwayne couldn’t be that for someone. Schneider was sure he was, and never felt prouder to share the same name as someone famous in his life, even if it was only his middle. But now when he thought of someone being his rock, it wasn’t the wrestler-turned-movie-star that came to mind.

It was Penelope Alvarez.

He liked that image a lot better.

No offense to Dwayne.

“—neider? Earth to bobo, hello?”

“Wha…yeah?” He shook his head as a hand waved across his face, snapping him out of his reverie.

“Welcome back, space cadet. You with me?”

His eyes fell on the woman in question as she stared at him, decked out in her full supporting-Alex-baseball-gear, looking wholly unimpressed by his daydreaming if the crinkle between her eyebrows was any indication. He smiled.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m here. What were you saying?”

Her head tilted minutely, in a move that he had come to know meant that she was not buying what he was selling and would no doubt circle back to whatever it was later.

“I was saying…that I think you should have taken that Luke guy up on his offer.”

Schneider frowned at her, wracking his brain to figure out what she was referring to. When it dawned on him, he couldn’t help the scoff from escaping his lips.

“Lucky Luke McClean? Yeah, no. I’m not taking anything that guy is offering. Drugs, Double Dates, or anything in between.”

His best friend gaped, looking alarmed, “What do you mean drugs, Schneider?! I thought he was an old gym buddy?”

When they had first arrived at the game earlier that day, Penelope had inadvertently walked in on an old catch-up between him his ex-associate, Luke, at the concession stand, no doubt gearing up for a rant about the ‘over-priced garbage’ that Schneider fully intended on not-so-secretly purchasing—but instead overheard how said ex-associate was roping him into a blind double-date with him and two “gym bunnies.”

He had barely suppressed a shudder, firmly shutting him down with a “Thanks but no thanks, dude” and subsequent bro-hug before high-tailing it outta there, grabbing Pen by the hand and pulling her with him before she undoubtedly became a target for Luke’s unrelenting flirting. Once upon a time, he would have never gotten away with such a manoeuvre, but his bestie had clearly read the situation right, or at least he thought she did.

“We _are_ old gym buddies, Pen. Emphasis on ‘old.’ He…got a little pushy on,” Schneider paused, giving a quick glance around to the crowd who were still focused on the game, lowering his voice nonetheless, “ _stimulants_ , and I thank you, nexted my way outta that bro-time pronto.”

She patted his knee gently, relief flooding her face, “Good. That’s good, Schneider. Guy seemed like a douche anyway.”

A laugh bubbled up his throat that had grown a little tighter, “That he is.”

Several minutes passed, where it seemed like the subject was dropped, but just as they watched Alex step up to the plate, Penelope murmured, “Still think it might be time for you to get back out there, though. The world’s missing out.”

Schneider didn’t have time to react before Penelope, Lydia and Elena were all on their feet, yelling and whooping loudly, so proud that Alex was back, playing better than ever after his arm injury. Blinking, he slowly rose and joined in, figuring that it was a conversation that could be shelved for another time.

That time came when they sat back on the Alvarezes’ couch hours later, tired but triumphant in Alex’s team’s win, nursing glasses, wine for Penelope, cherry coke for Schneider. He was extra like that. If Elena was to be believed, anyway.

“Have you thought about it?” She asked him quietly between sips of a red that was steadily staining her lips.

Not that Schneider noticed, or anything.

It had taken them a long time to get back here. Where Penelope was properly comfortable with drinking around him. Where a line of tension no longer smothered her shoulders and a wince didn’t cloud over a forced smile. It was good. They were good. Comfortable in a way that seemed maybe better than before. An understanding between them now, a bond that came with serious life shit shared between friends. But Schneider still wasn’t sure if he was ready for this conversation.

“Dating again?” He asked for clarification even though he didn’t need it.

She nodded. Taking another sip. Eyes focused on the glass in her hand.

He followed the glass to her lips before shaking himself, heaving a sigh, wiping a palm down his face.

“I mean, I guess? It’s—it’s been three months since…since Avery. I probably _should_ , right?”

He wasn’t sure why it was exactly that he was asking her. Seeking her advice. Judgment. Guidance. Anything, really. It’s just—that’s what he did lately. Hell, the last few years if he was being honest. Have a question? Ask Penelope. Need advice? Ask Penelope. Want company for the ill-advised Fast and Furious binge? Penelope was his girl.

She was who he turned to. For everything.

But for some reason, he didn’t want to turn to her for this.

“I mean,” she began, unaware of his inner turmoil, shifting on the couch so that she was facing him, “It hasn’t been _that_ long, Schneider. I’ve been in my dry spell a hell of a lot longer, so I ain’t gonna judge.”

She had a point there. Not that he’d ever admit it.

He was tuned into the frequency of Penelope Alvarez well enough to hear the underlined self-consciousness in her tone.

Reaching out, he took her free hand and squeezed it.

“Dios mio, I swear Schneider, if you even attempt to say, don’t worry, you’ll find some—”

He leaned forward, catching her eye.

“You. Are. A. Badass.”

He punctuated each word with a squeeze, “Not that you need me to tell you that. You—You’re an RN, Pen. Ha!” He paused, snorting, before collecting himself, “Sorry, that rhyme was unintentional. Where was I? Oh, yeah. You’re an RN, Pen. The best around. You’re a rockstar mom, a delightful daughter and a kickass best friend to one Patrick Dwayne Schneider, a hell of an accomplishment all on its own. And just because Mr Right has been too lost to find you already, doesn’t mean he won’t. Probably when you least expect it. ‘Cause in my experience? Life’s like that. Never a straight line. Curve-ball central.”

She stared at him. Crimson lips slightly parted. Something on her face that he couldn’t place.

His heart picked up pace a little. _Was it warm in here? He didn’t accidentally have a sip of vino did he?_

“I don’t think Mami would call me ‘delightful’ if my life depended on it.”

And just like that, whatever had draped across them had lifted.

“Yeah, maybe not the best word-choice, but I stand by it,” he replied a little breathlessly, letting her hand drop softly, wiping his palm on his jeans.

Her smile was small, but warm.

A bit like her.

“Thank you, Schneider.”

He nodded, feeling more exposed than he had in his last AA meeting.

“Any time, Penelope. I got you.”

A beat of silence passed between them, that same something still lingering as Penelope stared at him, an indecipherable expression on her face, before she cleared her throat.

“Your middle name is Dwayne?”

“ _That’s_ what you got from all that?”

“But Patrick _Dwayne_ Schneider? Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously, Ms Penelope Francisca del Carmen—”

“Okay, okay. Point taken.”

They shared a quiet laugh, when Schneider was overtaken with the need to address something. It rising in his chest with each passing second. Words were tumbling from his lips before he could stop them.

“I just…I really wanna thank you, though, Pen. For everything. Seriously. I know being my best friend isn’t easy, especially lately, but I…I wouldn’t have gotten through everything, falling off the wagon, losing Avery, hell, making it one day at a time, without you. So, thank you. For that,” he finished feebly, embarrassment seeping under his skin, heating his cheeks.

He picked nervously at an imaginary thread on his pants for an agonizingly long moment. A soft noise sounded next to him and he forced his gaze up, to look right into familiar dark eyes brimming with tears. His heart clenched.

“Don’t thank me, Schneider. It’s…it’s _my_ fault that Avery left.”

“What?”

She stood up so suddenly that she sloshed wine on the couch but was so hung up on pacing back and forth, running a hand through her hair, that she didn’t notice.

“I can’t believe I messed up your relationship. What, I wasn’t satisfied ruining my own? Who’s next, Elena and Syd? Mami and Dr B and whatever…they have? No one is safe.”

Schneider stared up at her in confusion, wondering what the hell had happened in those two seconds between the end of his embarrassing gratitude and drops of wine ruining Lydia’s ugly throw-cushion.

“What are you talking about, Pen? You don’t ruin relationships. And you certainly didn’t ruin me and Avery. I did that all on my own. It was only a matter of time.”

Penelope halted, dead in her tracks, jabbing a finger in his face.

“See, no Schneider. That’s where you’re wrong. I—I’m sorry but, I heard what Avery said, that night. All the time you spend with us, our dinners, going to the kids’ things, my late-night house-calls…they all contributed to her feeling like you put us first.”

“I _do_ put you first.”

“But you _shouldn’t_ , Schneider! You’re not their dad and you’re not my husband!”

Pain shot through him like a bullet. 

Penelope held up a hand to her mouth, shocked by her own outburst.

Schneider stared up at her, trying not to let the hurt he felt stabbing through his chest, show on his face.

“You’re right. I’m…not the kids’ dad,” he swallowed around the large lump in his throat, feeling like he could choke on it as he forced out, “Or—your husband.”

He stood up, faltering a little as he realised how close they were standing, trapped between her and the edge of the couch. Biting his lip, he stared down at her reddening face, muttering, “So, I guess, if that’s the only way, I’ll never be an Alvarez then, huh?”

Her mouth dropped open. She held up her hands, shaking her head vigorously.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I…”

He could count on one hand how many times he had seen her lost for words.

“No, Pen,” he sighed, turning his back on her, ignoring the stinging that was spreading throughout his entire body at this point, “It _is_ what you meant. You—you made it clear that I’ll never be an Alvarez. Not really. No matter what your mom says. Whatever chance I may have had once, I’ve blown this last year. I’ve disappointed you too much. First with the condos, then with letting your son find me stupid-ass drunk in the laundry room. I get it. I—I’ll back off. No more overstepping. It’ll be strictly family-friend Schneider from now on. No more co-parenting. It clearly wasn’t ever really that anyway.”

His mouth was running away from him. Hurt washing over every inch of him like a tidal wave.

Just when he thought they had gotten back to normal. Their normal. Their comfortable.

Life threw him a curve-ball.

Just like it always did.

“I’m gonna head out.”

“Schneider—” she reached out to him, her hand hovering in the short space between them.

He put his glass down, the clang of it ringing throughout the apartment.

He turned, storming to the door, reaching out to open it.

“I had to stop myself knocking on your door six different times.”

Her words stopped him dead in his tracks.

He didn’t turn around.

Her footsteps edged closer to him.

“ _Six_ different times, all hours of the morning, I found myself pacing outside your apartment, wanting to knock but knowing that Avery was there. I didn’t—you were in a _relationship_ , Schneider. And I…I felt like I couldn’t, shouldn’t, call you so much. Rely on you for so much. But I still invited you to dinner and texted you dumb pictures and—and when you couldn’t be there, were on a date, or busy with Avery I felt…lost. And I hated myself for it.”

She took a deep breath, shuffling a little closer.

“You’ve…you’ve been this…constant in my life and I’ve…I’ve taken you for granted, Schneider. I got so used to you always be there for the kids, for Mami, for _me_ but I knew I had to back off. For the sake of your relationship. I—I know what people think…about us…sometimes. How it can look. I didn’t want to jeopardise what you and Avery had so…I took a step back. But somehow, I still managed to screw things up for you. Because that’s what _I do_.”

It took every ounce of willpower in him not to face her, then.

Her breath hitched, her voice lowering so much that were there anything but dead silence in the room, he would have surely missed her next words.

“You’re my best friend, Schneider, but sometimes? Sometimes you’re so much more. And that…scares me.”

His throat was dryer than his first week of detoxing.

“…More?”

He finally turned around, eyes drawn to her like a magnet.

She was a mess. Her skin blotchy, her eyes puffy, her hair matted.

To Schneider, she never looked more beautiful.

Privately, he allowed himself to admit that for the first time in a while.

For so long now, ever since his and Penelope’s friendship deepened over the last few years, he had been burying any stray observations he had had on his best friend’s attractiveness, both physical and personality-wise under the insistence of seeing her in an “older sister” mentality. It was nice to give himself a break from the self-imposed sibling-zone. He forcibly basking her in a sister-light for an age now, just so he could be a part of the Alvarez clan in a way that made sense. But no matter how hard he tried, he was never certain of its authenticity. More of a necessity to stop his wandering mind, than any true brotherly-bond he had felt towards her.

A weight lifted from his shoulders as he quietly acknowledged that too.

His mind was firing on all sorts of different cylinders now.

No amount of “sis” nicknames was gonna stop it.

Something shifted in him, emotions swirling in his chest as he crossed the room, back over towards her.

She wouldn’t look at him.

His eyes lingered over her face nonetheless, a familiar warmth settling in his chest that he had definitely not allowed himself to feel in what felt like a life-time.

He was facing this curve-ball head on.

Lines be damned.

“More _how_ , Penelope?”

**Author's Note:**

> So…the next installments will be from Penelope’s POV. I’m nervous. Watch this space!


End file.
